


Stucky University AU

by stupsi_dupsi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Other, might end up containing smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-02-20 13:37:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13147821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stupsi_dupsi/pseuds/stupsi_dupsi
Summary: Bucky  goes off to university only to have his former best friend Steve be selected as his roommate. The two of them had a massive fight and don't like each other but are now forced to get along. One night Steve gets Bucky drunk and....things change.





	1. Info

**Author's Note:**

> Behold my first ever fanfic. I've loved this pairing for so long I finally mustered up the courage to write something about it. Also pls keep in mind, English isn't my first language and this isn't betaed.

Hi, this isn't the first chapter, just basically a preface.  
I don't have a lot to say don't worry.  
This story is set in modern day, both Bucky and Steve are around 19 years old. Pls don't judge, I have no clue how uni works in the Us. Do you even call it uni? Or college? Well, I hope that you can still enjoy my story, even with any possible logic/continuity/grammar/spelling mistakes.  
Greetings  
~Styx


	2. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky moves in with his roommate and makes friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope u enjoy and pls don't judge my terrible english  
> the next chapter isn't yet written but I don't have school rn so I might finish it before next year lol

James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes dragged his unbelievably heavy suitcase up the last few steps of an intimidatingly large staircase and followed a surprisingly narrow hallway to the left. This was his first day at NYU (New York University) and he was more excited than he cared to admit. Leaving his family to live on his own in the giant university building was a welcome change in the raging train wreck that was his life.

Finally being able to get away from the pits of hell also known as high school meant a second chance that he never got after he lost his left arm in a car accident three years ago. Now he was nineteen and he was wearing a metal prosthetic for which he received funny looks wherever he went. All these years he had tried to be normal, to fit in but it never really worked. Now he could finally mind his own business, get over with his education and get a job, where he didn’t have to care about other people’s pointless opinions anymore. At least that was the plan.

He fumbled in his pocket for a moment before the stiff metal fingers of his prosthetic got hold of the key the grumpy secretary had given him. Sometimes he was glad that Stark Industries did this much research on prosthetics and that he’d been offered the possibility to take part in an experimental programme. As much as he hated the cold, rigid limb, it helped him get around. With a normal prosthetic arm he wouldn’t even be able to grab the key if it was lying on a table in front of him. Now he could at least kind of “feel” what he was doing.

He carelessly stuffed the key into the door and when it swung open he came face to face with the one person he had hoped to never see again. Steven Grant Rogers. Aka the guy who had spent the past three years watching Bucky being tormented by his so called friends, after brutally ending their profound friendship and suddenly becoming hot and popular.

The two of them just stared at one another for a solid minute before Bucky shook his head and heavily facepalmed himself. When he felt blood dripping down onto his chin, he realised that it had been his left hand that he had hammered into his face. He led out an impressive stream of curses and wiped his nose with the sleeve of his jacket while ignoring Steve completely and moving over to the bathroom. He left his suitcase next to the second bed in the empty half of the room.

Five minutes later he emerged from the bathroom with a piece of toilet paper pressed to his still bleeding nose. Steve was still standing rooted to the spot where he had left him and was absentmindedly staring off into space. When Bucky squeezed past him to throw the door closed he shifted, grabbing hold of Bucky’s flesh arm and roughly turning him around. “What on earth are you doing here, Barnes?” He snarled while seemingly trying to come across as intimidating. “Visiting my gran, what else?” Bucky huffed and shook off Steve’s hand.  
He walked over to his side of the room, heaved his suitcase onto the bed and began unzipping it. “No, seriously what the hell...” Steve piped up again. “Going to university, you punk! Like every normal person. But of course my bad luck is striking again.” Bucky interrupted, throwing away the now useless toilet paper. Steve was already being a pain in the ass again.

This triggered memories from their time in middle school, back when they used to be best friends. When Steve was barely 5’2”. When he was shy and Bucky was protecting him from bullies. Back then everything had been fine.  
Until that one day when they were sixteen. They had a terrible fight. They both had said some things they regretted but it had ended with Steve screaming “I don’t need you anymore, Barnes!” and Bucky storming off. He ran and ran, his vision clouded with tears and when he was crossing a street he didn’t see the truck coming.

He woke up in hospital three weeks later, his mum and his sister by his bed. A few broken ribs, a heavy concussion and an arm missing. And no Steve. He didn’t come to visit him, not once. The summer holidays had started and all summer Bucky tried to adjust to the changes in his life. After a few weeks he stopped trying to call Steve.

When he went back to school he nearly didn’t recognise his former best friend. He had grown a decent bit and had gotten ripped. He was hanging out with the “cool” kids and completely ignored Bucky. When Bucky tried to talk to him, Steve had snarled at him to go mind his own business and Bucky had been taken aback. When he got home that day he had curled into a ball in his bed and cried for hours.  
Eventually, just when he thought he got over Steve, the teasing started. When he got his prosthetic, his sister Becca had painted a red star onto it, by his shoulder, but for some reason, Steve’s new “friends” had found that really funny. They had started teasing him about it, then about his hair, that was getting longer and longer, about his clothes, about everything. He was shoved into lockers, tripped in the hallways, his bag was emptied onto the floor and while Steve, with a few exceptions, never actually physically harmed Bucky, no one seemed to realise what this was doing to him. He lost his always present interest in sports, his self-confidence, his sarcastic sense of humour and started having panic attacks. He became an introvert, an outcast and there was nothing he could do to change it.  
He seemed emotionless, cold as ice and way too serious for his age. He had built a wall around himself, locked everyone out of his life, even his sister with whom he used to be incredibly close.  
In the year that passed between high school and now, he regained his love for running and swimming and while he was masking his anxiety with a cold facade, ripped jeans, band shirts and steel toe combat boots, he still struggled to fall asleep at night. He was self-confident in a way that he didn’t care what other people thought or said about him or about his punkish style of clothing anymore but on the inside he was still vulnerable, afraid.

“Barnes?” Steve’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He was looking at him expectantly and Bucky just grunted in response. “I was asking what you intend to do about this” - he cleared his throat – “problem.”  
“I ain’t changing anything.” Bucky barked over his shoulder, his rasping voice shaking ever so slightly. “I’m done changing for other people’s comfort. You’ve got a problem? Do something about it yourself!” And with that he turned around and continued to unpack his bag.

He stuffed his clothes messily into the wardrobe and began throwing his books and stationary onto the desk. When he shot a glance at Steve, he still seemed dumbstruck. Bucky used the chance to scan him head to toe. He was even taller than Bucky remembered and so ridiculously ripped that his torso was literally triangular, like a dorito, he thought to himself. He was probably about an inch taller than Bucky himself and his blond hair was neatly styled while Bucky’s looked like a bird had attempted to build a nest in it.

While Bucky was pinning his new time table to the wall over the desk, Steve left and threw the door closed behind him. The second he was out of the door Bucky dropped down onto his bed, pulled his long, skinny legs up to his chest and quietly started sobbing.  
He desperately fumbled his phone out of his pocket and called Becca. “Omg Bucky are you okay?” she asked, when she heard his sniffing. “No.” he whispered, his voice even more hoarse than usually. “Steve is my roommate.”

Half an hour later Becca had calmed him down enough for him to stop crying. He was still sat on his bed, legs crossed, eyes red and puffy, trails of tears on his cheeks but he felt slightly better. “But you don’t understand Bec, what do I do now?” He asked helplessly. “Well I’d say try and change roommates but you know they don’t actually ever permit that.” Becca sighed and wished she could just wrap her brother in a blanket and protect him from the world. 

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out Buck. You’re strong you know that?” She added and Bucky let out a dry laugh. “Well if he doesn’t mind his own fucking business I’m gonna punch him in the face.” He said, not knowing where that boost of confidence had come from. He had kind of accepted himself at this point but being teased was still a weak spot. “Thanks Becca.” He expressed quietly. “Love you loads.” She answered. “Call me again tomorrow.” – “Sure.” – “And Bucky? I’m glad we’re talking to each other again.” Becca hung up.

Bucky sniffed again and rubbed his already ruined sleeve over his eyes. He stumbled into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. It was pretty obvious that he had cried, his eyes still puffy and his hair even messier than before. He walked back to the actual room and sat down at his desk. He felt so so exhausted and ready to hibernate for a few months but instead, he heard the door being opened. Hastily he dragged the hood of his jacket over his head in order to try and hide his face and bowed over some papers in front of him.

He had expected Steve but instead he heard several different voices. Two of them he immediately recognised as Peggy Carter and Tony Stark, Howard Stark’s obnoxious son, whose father was the founder of Stark Industries.

Bucky didn’t dare to turn around and continued to stare at his papers without actually reading anything.  
Suddenly someone yanked the hood off of his head and turned his chair around to lean down in front of him. Bucky didn’t recognise him but he was big and scary and was wearing an evil grin. “So this is ‘Barnes’? I have heard so much about you.” He made it sound like Bucky’s name was a swear word. “I’m Brock Rumlow.” He said and held his left hand out to Bucky, who didn’t move. “C’mon don’t be rude.” Brock snarled and grabbed Bucky’s metal wrist. He pulled it towards himself but instead of shaking his hand, he examined the prosthetic roughly. “Ha what a freak!” He laughed and turned around, seemingly waiting for agreement from his friends. “Yeah…” a black guy who was standing behind Steve murmured. “Sam, that didn’t sound very convincing.” Brock laughed. “Yeah I dunno man, laughing about people’s prosthetics? That’s not cool dude.” Sam groaned but still looked at Bucky as if he was some weird insect he had never seen before. In the background, two buff guys had started laughing as if to please Brock who was still holding onto Bucky’s arm and he still didn’t dare to move.

He had his head bowed to not let them see his face but Brock noticed the gesture. He let go of the arm just to grab Bucky’s chin and forced him to lift his head. “Have you been crying you baby?” He asked condescendingly and dragged Bucky to his feet.  
From the corner of his eye Bucky could see Steve opening his mouth as if he wanted to say something but he didn’t.

Brock pushed him back and Bucky hastily left the room before they could do anything else to him. He didn’t know where he was going but he pulled his hood back up and when he ended up on the empty roof of the car park he carelessly dropped down to the floor and leaned against the cool brick wall behind him.  
“Hey!” He heard someone shouting. It sounded as if it was coming through a thick fog that was clouding his vision and his ability to hear and he knew that he was going to have a panic attack.  
Wearily he sensed someone kneeling down in front of him but he couldn’t think straight anymore. Fear made him shake violently, panic made his breath heavy. He pressed himself up against the wall behind him in desperate need for stability. His mind went rogue and he could see his seventeen year old self sitting on his bed with a blade in his metal hand, blood dripping down his arm and onto the bed sheet.

Through the fog he heard a soothing voice speaking to him. Though he couldn’t hear what the person, Bucky was sure it was a man, was saying, it helped him focus.  
After a few minutes his vision finally started to clear and he stopped shaking. It was only now that he realised that someone was hugging him. His body stiffened again and he jumped back against the wall. His eyes wide open he stared at the guy in front of him. The first thing he saw was a bright purple mohawk (Credit to Lucidnancyboy). “You okay?” the guy asked.  
Breathlessly Bucky nodded. “Clint Barton.” The other one said and held out a hand. Bucky shook it hesitantly. “Bucky Barnes.” He answered. “Nice to meet you.” Clint grinned and then threw a curious glance at Bucky’s other hand. Bucky pulled the sleeve of his jacket down to hide it and looked at Clint apologetically. Clint just shrugged and sat down, cross legged, in front of him.  
“Well that was intense.” Clint joked, trying to make Bucky feel better. Bucky forced a smile and chuckled. “Sorry…I…” He stuttered, his cheeks burning but Clint just brushed his embarrassment off. “’S okay pal.” Gratefully, Bucky sighed and wiped a hand over his face. Clint stared at his bloody sleeve for a second and Bucky gestured to his nose.  
“Cool shirt by the way.” Clint said to kill the awkward silence and pointed at Bucky’s chest. The big “ACDC” logo on the black fabric was visible behind the open jacket. Bucky grinned, grateful for the subject change. “Cool hair.” He answered.

“So…what are you gonna study?” Clint proceeded to ask. “Photography” Bucky answered. “Cool man I’m doing Architecture!” Clint beamed excitedly.  
As it was a Sunday and the term officially started tomorrow and the two of them didn’t have any responsibilities they decided to go to Clint’s room who had offered to host Bucky for the rest of the evening so that he could stay away from Steve. Clint didn’t know him but Bucky had carefully told him enough to understand his problem.  
They sat on the floor and played Mario cart the entire night until the early hours of morning. Clint’s roommate Bruce was only going to arrive the following day, because for some reason, the science courses started a day later, probably because they had to check the labs and stuff like that.

Bucky warmed up to Clint surprisingly fast and even laughed once or twice at one of the vastly inappropriate jokes Clint told. It felt as if they had been best friends for forever and a warm tingly feeling spread in his guts. By three in the morning they called it a night and Bucky left, not only because he had roughly three and a half hours left before he had to get up but also because he was so tired he couldn’t keep his eyes open anyway. When he sneaked into Steve’s and his room, he didn’t even turn the light on and went straight for the bathroom. After having brushed his teeth and washed his face he sneaked just as quietly back towards his bed.

He threw a glance over to Steve’s side of the room and when his eyes had fully adapted to the darkness, he saw with horror that Steve had sat up in his bed and was staring back at him. Hastily Bucky turned his back to him and started changing into his pajamas.

He was glad that the darkness concealed the suspicious scars on his arms and thighs and especially the seam where the prosthetic was attached to his left shoulder. He could still feel Steve’s intense stare behind his back but he didn’t turn around again, just put on an old shirt and a pair of flannel pajama bottoms. Then he climbed into his bed and hid under the covers.  
He turned his back to the room and curled up into a ball.  
At six thirty the next morning Bucky’s alarm clock started blasting Green Day’s “Revolution Radio” at full volume. With deadly precision he hit the button and jumped out of bed. Steve groaned but didn’t move.

After a quick shower Bucky got dressed as quickly as possible, shoved his wet, now slightly curly hair under a black beanie that was covered in pins and buttons and sat down on his bed to put on his beloved steel toe boots. Then he grabbed his bag and when Steve stumbled over to the bathroom, Bucky left.

He went to the second floor to pick up Clint for breakfast but when he knocked on the door a dark haired guy in glasses opened who Bucky had never seen before. When he was about to awkwardly leave, Clint hollered from the background: “Hey darlin’! C’mon in!” Hesitantly Bucky entered and shook the other guy’s hand. “I’m Bruce.” He said calmly. “Bucky.” Bucky answered while sitting down on Clint’s bed whose owner was stood in front of a mirror, styling his mohawk. 

“Slept well?” Clint asked absentmindedly and louder than it would have been necessary, while shoving his feet into a pair of bright orange converse’s that didn’t match his hair at all. Bucky just nodded even though Clint had currently turned his back towards him.  
“See ya Banner.” Clint shouted over his shoulder before loudly throwing the door closed behind him and Bucky and leading the way towards the cafeteria downstairs.

Said cafeteria was a hot mess. While there was no food on the floor and no one was getting beaten up there was the (still very obnoxious) Tony Stark standing on a chair holding a speech to his peers. He was basically screaming at the top of his lungs in order to overpower Brock Rumlow and a few others heavily arguing at the table next to him. Around his table there were Steve, Peggy, her cousin Sharon, a strawberry blonde whose face was familiar to Bucky though he couldn’t recall her name, Sam and a bunch of other “cool” kids.

“…and therefore I suggest that you elect me as president of the school newspaper!” Tony dramatically ended his speech and jumped off the chair to sit in it. “You don’t even like journalism…” Sam grumbled under his breath, loud enough for even Bucky to hear it.

The fight in the background ended when Brock punched one of his opponents in the nose and stomped off. The other guy left too, his hand clutching his bloody nose, his friend following.

After having bought food and coffee, Clint led Bucky over to a small table in a quiet corner of the loud cafeteria. Only a redheaded girl was already sitting there. “Hey Nat.” Clint called and gave her an awkward fist bump across the table. “May I introduce you to cupcake here?” He then proceeded to ask still unnecessarily loudly and pointed at Bucky who was just standing there next to him. “Will you stop calling me pet names?” He hissed but both Clint and Nat just chuckled. “I’m Natasha Romanoff.” The girl grinned. “Bucky Barnes.” He answered and gave her a less awkward fist bump.  
While Nat surely was kind hearted she was also a bit dodgy as Bucky thought to himself, in a way that she seemed scarily observant and straight forward.

Both Bucky and Clint sat down across from Nat and they all started eating. Bucky burnt his tongue on his plain, black coffee and started cursing quietly under his breath. Nat chuckled and then took a bite out of her croissant. Bucky sneaked a sip of Clint’s orange juice while he wasn’t looking and then grabbed his sandwich. “I have art and design first.” Clint basically shouted around a mouth full of cereal.  
“Woah dude fix your hearing aids.” Nat laughed. “What?” Clint shouted as an answer. Nat pointed towards his ears and he seemed to realise his mistake as he started fidgeting with his ear. “That actually explains why everything was so dull today.” He said sheepishly. “You need to know, I’m pretty deaf, so yeah.” He addressed Bucky who just shrugged, then put down his sandwich and pulled up his left sleeve. “And I’m missing an arm.” He added as if it was nothing. 

Clint opened his mouth a few times like a confused goldfish while both he and Natasha were staring at Bucky’s prosthetic. “Jeez..sorry cupcake. I..umm, I’m sorry for your loss?” Clint mumbled. “But seriously that thing is awesome.” He then grinned. Nat said nothing. For some reason the two of them made Bucky smile. This was the first time someone saw his disability as something normal and didn’t make a fuss about it.

“Can I uh touch it?” Clint asked quietly. Nat threw him a scolding glance and hissed “Clint!” but Bucky just held out his arm towards his new friend who excitedly ran his fingers over the nicely wrought steel.

Bucky’s lips curled into a gentle smile as he saw Clint giddily exploring his artificial limb. For the first time in three years he felt ordinary. Well not ordinary because, you know, he had a metal arm but still.  
A question popped up in his head and he lifted his head to look at Natasha. “So what makes you an outcast then?” He asked almost grimly. “I chose to be one.” She eventually answered after thinking about it for a moment or two. “Humans are loud and irritating. I like to stay in the shadows and observe. That makes people think I’m weird.” She pulled the corners of her mouth upwards into something mimicking a smile but her eyes gave the façade away.

Bucky nodded then gently pushed Clint back onto his own chair and grabbed his half eaten sandwich. They continued to eat in silence and when the bell went they gave each other a fist bump and left in different directions not without Clint seductively winking at Bucky who countered with an overly dramatic eye roll. 

He checked his time table and found out that his first course was on the 6th floor. Then he sighed and started dragging his butt up the first flight of stairs.  
The lesson was basically an uncoordinated Photography professor trying to explain how the available cameras worked even though Bucky was pretty sure everybody knew exactly how to use them except that professor.

When everyone started randomly taking pictures of random objects in the room, Bucky let his gaze roam across the room and froze when he saw a certain blonde shock of hair appearing from underneath a table where its owner had bowed down to pick up a dropped pencil.

Bucky fought the urge to spontaneously sink into the ground to disappear into the 8th circle of hell and was then saved by the bell. He hastily shoved his stuff into his bag and rushed out of the room as fast as possible while pretending not to have seen Steve whose eyes he felt in his back.

He skipped down the six staircases in record time and basically ran over to the dorm block.  
“Cliiiint!” He whined while pounding against the door. “Just a sec cupcake!” Clint hollered back and Bucky heard a blunt “bang” and a colourful stream of curses when Clint hit what presumably was his shin on a piece of furniture. A split second later he already opened the door and let Bucky in. Bruce who was sat at his desk, headphones over his ears, was already buried in an impressive pile of papers, seemingly studying something sciency.

“What’s up sweetie?” Clint asked, rubbing his leg. He noticed the uneasy atmosphere Bucky had brought into the room with him. “Steve’s in my photography class.” The latter complained while slumping down onto Clint’s chaotic bed.  
“Just ignore him, as long as none of his ape friends are there, you should be fine.” Clint said reassuringly while digging through the Bermuda triangle on the floor next to his wardrobe. “Cliint!” Bucky pouted. “It’s not that easy. Just seeing him is enough.” He added dramatically.

Clint found the shoe he had been looking for and sat down next to Bucky to wrap him in a hug.  
“It’s gonna be okay buddy. Just don’t worry. Eventually they’ll get bored. Nat and I will take care of ya. I promise.”  
Bucky sniffed quietly and leaned into the embrace, glad to have someone by his side.


	3. Drama

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised an update before 2018 didn't I? I hope you enjoy. Also, I'm still struggling with the uni/college concept a bit, so if it sounds a bit too much like a highschool AU I apologise. The next chapter will take a bit longer pls forgive me.

It was a late afternoon a few weeks later, when Clint came back from his archery practice that he passed by Steve in the hallway. Dutifully he dropped his bag and bow, grabbed Steve by the biceps and pulled him into an empty classroom.

Steve seemed a little startled but promptly proceeded to open his mouth to complain though the deeply threatening expression on Clint's face shut him down immediately.  
"Rogers, I've got a few things I wanna get off my chest. Well actually it's just one." Clint said in a purposefully low voice, still standing too close to Steve while holding onto his arm.  
Steve just stared at him, now seeming slightly intimidated.

"So listen up jackass. I want you to stay away from Cupcake, you got me? I see that way you look at 'em and I don't like it! If you hurt 'em I swear to god, I will fuck you up!" Clint all but growled.  
Then his expression suddenly lit up and he let go of Steve's arm. "Is that understood?" He asked sweetly while staring him in the eyes intensely. "Sure..." Steve mumbled carefully and then fled.  
Later, when Steve returned to the room he (unfortunately) shared with Bucky, he found his roommate sitting on the floor next to his bed, bantering with a red-headed young woman, whom Steve recognised to be Natasha Romanoff, whom he thought to be slightly scary. However, he ignored her completely in favour of stomping over to Bucky, roughly pulling him to his feet by the lapels of his jacket and pushing him against the closest wall. Bucky's blue eyes were wide, confusion and a hint of fear written across his features as his hands came up to pull at Steve's wrists to get him off. "Did you send that weird emo to threaten me, /Cupcake/?" Steve snarled condescendingly, shaking the other man lightly. Bucky fish-mouthed at him for a few seconds before stuttering something inaudible.  
Just when Steve was about to taunt him again, he was distracted by a sharp hit being delivered to his kidneys. When he groaned in pain and turned around, in the process letting go of Bucky, he only caught a glimpse of red hair, before a small but vicious fist made contact with his head from exactly the right angle and knocked him out cold.

"You okay?" Nat asked while throwing an almost pitiful glance at Steve who had furred over and was now laying on the floor in the least graceful position one could imagine. "Mh-hm..that was...that was awesome." mumbled Bucky who was still leaning against the wall while staring at his friend.

Only a couple of seconds later, a groan was heard from where Steve laid crumpled on the hardwood floor, a fresh bruise blooming on his face. He stirred, struggling to sit up and Nat hastily dragged Bucky out into the hallway. "What about him?" Bucky questioned, motioning back towards the closed door behind them. "Oh just leave 'em, he'll be fine." Nat shrugged. 

Nat took Bucky to her room and made him watch a weird Russian tv show with terrible English subtitles. She was staring at the screen intently while Bucky was on his phone, as all he had picked up of the gist of the show was that it was essentially a Russian bootleg of ‘The Great British Bake-Off’.

When Nat was busy laughing her ass off over something the old lady, who had previously been giving instructions, was screaming at one of the contestants, Clint barged in without knocking and his eyes said one thing: I’m gonna kill him.

“Imma rip his fucking head off!” He all but growled upon his arrival an immediately rushed to Bucky to give him a once-over for injuries. “I’m fine, Clint don’t worry bud.” Bucky soothed. He found Clint’s protectiveness endearing and it touched him deeply how much the other seemed to care about him, despite having only known him for a couple of weeks. 

Clint made Bucky swear to tell him immediately if Steve was ever rude to him again before getting hooked onto the totally realistic and not at all staged plot of the Russian tv show.  
When Clint walked Bucky back to his room an hour later, Bucky still had some photos to take after all, he briefly hugged him before returning to his own room to study.

Bucky cautiously opened the door to his room as quietly as he could but Steve, who sat with his back to the door still turned to glare at him. The bruise on his face had turned a lovely shade of purple and Bucky tried hard not to snicker. Steve gave a snide remark about Bucky having his ass saved by a girl but was ignored when Bucky fled to the bathroom to shower. 

He shed his clothes and walked into the shower, turned up the temperature as far as he dared and simply stood there, in the boiling hot spray, shivering. He was overwhelmed and didn’t even notice when his knees gave in and he sank to the tiled floor but pulled his legs up to his chest and held on for dear life.

He hadn’t expected Steve to directly inflict violence upon him and he had to admit, he was terrified out of his mind. Bucky didn’t think he’d be able to handle things going back to the way they were in high school, even with Nat and Clint by his side. However, he refused to give up the wall he had built around himself, too hard had he worked for it.

And thus he determinedly scrambled to his feet and finished his shower.

When he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower to dry himself off, he heard the door to Steve’s and his room open. He trained his ears on any noise coming from beyond the bathroom door, hoping Steve might have left but was surprised, when he heard Clint’s usually pleasant voice dripping with venom.

“Did you really think, I’d let you off easy after that? I thought I warned you.” He spat, obviously addressing Steve and Bucky’s eyes widened. Seemingly, Clint was trying to pick a fight with the latter over bullying Bucky earlier.

The noise of an item of furniture being turned over and paper hitting the floorboards was heard and then a startled gasp. Bucky now had his ear pressed to the thin bathroom door trying to make sense of the situation outside but not daring to interfere.

“Hey let go!” Steve yelled, audibly angry. “Not until you apologise for being a massive dickhead!” Clint hollered back at him through clenched teeth.  
There was what sounded like a quarrel, then, something heavy hit the floor with a blunt “Umpf” noise. A loud “Whack” followed by a yelp made Bucky hurriedly get dressed and barge into the room. He walked in on Steve punching Clint, who had his back pressed to the ground underneath him, in the nose, anger sharply written across his unfairly attractive features. 

“Hey, stop!” Bucky, who was mildly panicking, shouted, yanking Steve off of his friend by his arms and pushing him to the floor a couple of feet away.  
When his breathing slowed down, he threw a careful glance at Clint, who had blood running down his chin and still looked incredibly pissed off. So did Steve, who had dragged himself into a sitting position and had just opened his mouth to say something.

“Get that insane jackass away from me!” He growled, staring daggers at Clint. “You brought that on yourself pal.” The latter shot back.  
“Hey!!” Bucky screamed at the top of his lungs, catching everyone’s attention. “What the shit do you think you’re doing?!” He asked as menacingly as he could. “He started it…” Steve murmured but quickly shut up when Bucky kicked him in the ribs. “I tried to put some sense into him.” Clint said. “Sure, that’s exactly what you did.” Steve fired back at him.

That was when Bucky decided that enough was enough. He held out a hand to help Clint to his feet and then pulled him past Steve and out of the room.

Clint cursed to himself as he wiped his nose and ducked his head when Bucky stared at him reproachfully. They were walking down the corridor side by side towards the library, as Bucky was planning for a more private conversation and yelling at Clint in the hallway didn’t seem like something the inhabitants of the rooms around them would appreciate.

Also, at this time of day, the stereotypically nasty librarian had gone home and while the library was still open so the cleaning staff could get in, nobody actually went there after hours unless they were cramming for an upcoming exam. There was even a rumour Bucky had picked up in the cafeteria the other day, that the sheer endless corridors of bookshelves scraping the ceiling were allegedly haunted by some old fella who had reportedly died there at some point.

Now, however, it was only Clint and him sitting in their dimly lit favourite spot by a high arch window. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Bucky cleared his voice. “What were you thinking?” He asked. It was the middle of the night after all, he had had a long day and simply couldn’t be asked to put up with his friend getting his ass handed to him seeking vengeance.

“I told him to stay away from you and..” Clint started but was promptly interrupted by Bucky harshly yelling “What!”. “That is literally why Steve came at me in the first place! He thought I told you to threaten him! None of this woulda happened if you just…!” He buried his head in his hands with a frustrated groan. “I don’t want you getting hurt because of me alright? I care about you. Same for Nat. She coulda gotten in trouble for knocking ‘em out! Just be grateful that Steve is such an arrogant ass – he would never admit having been messed over by a girl. You… - please don’t do anything like this again. I was afraid he’d break your nose. One of his idiotic ass friends did that to me once, wasn’t fun.” 

With that he ended his moral speech and directed steel blue puppy eyes towards Clint who seemed slightly taken aback. “You…- Cupcake…I’m sorry okay? I was trying to protect you and that was a stupid way to do it. I get it, I do. This needs to stop though! Him and his friends treating you like trash? That’s not cool man! I remembered the “Imma rip his fucking head off!” part when I was talking to Banner so I came back and…” Then a sudden realisation of what Bucky had said last hit him. “WhaT dO YOU MEAN SOMEONE BROKE YOUR NOSE WHODIDITIMMAKILLTHEM!” He all but shouted, eyes wide, eyebrows meeting above his nose. He was practically fuming. His voice was echoing around the empty library and the sound of it sent a shiver down Bucky’s spine as he flinched away from its source. He still didn’t answer to being screamed at very well.

“Jeez sorry. Don’t panic, sorry.” Clint mumbled, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “S’alright bud.” Bucky said quietly. “Just please don’t mess with Steve again, He was pretty dang terrifying earlier.”  
Then, He remembered why he had wanted to go back to his room originally. The photos. The photos that were due the next day. Clint hollered after him in surprise when he jumped to his feet running away. “Photos!” He shouted as he desperately tugged on the handle of the heavy double doors. “That’d be a ‘push’” Clint snickered coming up behind him. “Thanks for nothing!” Bucky shrieked as he stomped out into the hallway and started half-jogging towards the nearest staircase. 

“Cupcake! Where the shit are you going?” Clint yelled, trying to keep up. “It’s fucking late! The Photography department is on the stupid top floor of the Art building and they lock that whole thing at ten pm every day! Did you forget about that?” That made Bucky come to a halt on the top step of the staircase he was about to fall down. “Are you saying…?” He asked tentatively. “Yup. You won’t get those photos done before tomorrow after class and then it’ll be too late for your deadline. Sorry” Clint grimaced.

“Aw shit.” Bucky exclaimed, tone hilariously flat. “I’m probably failing the course at this point. All I ever do in class is texting you and try steering clear of Mr. Arrogant Punk.” He mumbled desperately. “Aw Cupcake don’t worry. I’ve seen some of your photos remember? They’re good! I’m sure they won’t fail you over one incomplete project!” Clint nudged him reassuringly and gently redirected him up the stairs instead of down in order to walk him back to his room. 

Clint was smart enough not to enter, once they reached the room, and thus another fight was avoided, for now. Bucky ignored Steve, who was lying on his bed, sulking in favour of brushing his teeth and getting changed. Alas, he didn’t miss the sharp intake of breath from the other side of the room, when he pulled off his shirt and revealed the scar, where the bionic arm was seamed to his left shoulder.  
Feeling uncomfortable, he hastily put on his pyjamas and buried himself in his blanket, determined to get up extra early the next day to go running, like he did ever so often.

 

The next morning, his alarm clock woke him at five thirty and with an exhausted groan, he rolled out of bed. He had slept for what felt like half an hour but started collecting his trainers and some clothes regardless. Ten minutes later he was leaving campus towards a small, nearby park, dressed in a longsleeve shirt and gym shorts. His hair, which hadn’t been restrained overnight, was stuffed under his beloved beanie to hide the out of control curls. He had a bottle of water strapped to his belt and set off down the street towards the park gates. Once he was surrounded by trees and silence, he immediately felt himself relaxing.

Steve had miraculously slept through Bucky’s alarm clock and woke up an hour later, when his phone started chirping. When he stepped out of the shower and looked at himself in the mirror, he noticed the vibrant purple staining his cheek and groaned exasperatedly. How would he get through the day without anyone asking stupid questions?  
Before he got the chance to dwell in his self-pity for any longer, Bucky shouted something inaudible from their shared room. “What!” Steve hollered, pulling an illegally tight shirt over his head. “Hurry up Rogers! I gotta shower!” Bucky screamed. “You literally showered last night!” Steve replied, now audibly annoyed. “I know, but I went running.” Bucky said, more quietly than before. “Please?” He added carefully. “I don’t wanna be late for class.” Steve let out an impressively suffering sigh. “Fine. Give me a second.” He grumbled and went to brush his teeth. 

 

When he walked out of the bathroom, Bucky jumped up from where he had been lounging in a chair- Steve’s favourite chair. He looked rather messy, a few strands of adorably curly hair peeking out from underneath that wretched beanie and his burgundy coloured shirt, slightly wet from the soft drizzle, that had set in halfway through his run, sticking to his body in all the right places to make him look irresistible. Steve felt the urge to hit himself in the head for thinking that and wordlessly stomped past his roommate, grabbed his bag and was out of the door before anyone could say another word.  
After a quick shower, Bucky rushed into the cafeteria in the exact moment Clint turned around in his chair for the eleventh time looking for him. When he finally spied a familiar black-clad figure he almost squealed. “I thought you deserted us!” He pouted when Bucky pulled up a chair. ”Sorry, I went running and SOMEONE was blocking the bathroom.” Bucky grinned as an answer.

Clint had started ranting about his art and design teacher, Natasha was pretending to pay attention and Bucky was people-watching. Currently he was staring at that oh so familiar strawberry blonde, trying to remember her name, which was why he only noticed Steve coming up behind him, when the latter tugged the beanie off of his head, threw it over to one of his douchebag friends and started laughing.

“Very mature Rogers!” Bucky shouted, feeling his cheeks burn bright red. He knew everybody was staring now and he also knew that he probably looked like a fucking curly scarecrow. Clint tousled his hair with his free hand, that wasn’t holding a sandwich and Bucky thought he had heard a tiny “aww” from Natasha.

Steve and the others threw Bucky’s beanie around for a bit before it got boring, seeing as Bucky wasn’t bothered to scream or run after them. The poor beanie ended up on the floor next to Brock Rumlow’s table and with a suffering sigh, Bucky trudged over there to get it.

He had counted on a snide remark about his messy hair or whatever but he hadn’t actually expected Brock to get up and actively trip him. When he hit the floor face first, he regretted having left his cosy bed in the morning. Brock’s booming laughter was audible through the entire cafeteria which had gone utterly silent at the prospect of drama. He grabbed Bucky by the back of the neck and pulled him back up only to hit him hard in the stomach. At that Bucky sank to his knees coughing his guts up, unable to move. However, when Brock pulled him up a second time, he was prepared. Just as Brock lifted his fist, Bucky conjured all his strength and punched him square in the face. When his opponent stumbled backwards, Bucky pulled his legs out from underneath him and let him tumble to the floor.

When he looked around, people were staring at him with their mouths wide open and Bucky made a decision. He half-jogged over to Clint and Nat and pulling Clint towards the exit he muttered: “I gotta get going. The ‘arm malfunction’ excuse doesn’t count when I punch people with my right hand.” At that Clint started laughing almost hysterically but still followed him outside and down the hall. “Cupcake, where are we even going?” He wheezed, trying to keep up the all but fuming Bucky. “Hey!” Someone behind them yelled. When they both turned around, they saw Mr Pierce, the ironically cruel business professor everybody deeply despised. “Where do you think you’re going Mr Barnes?” He demanded. “You started a fight in the cafeteria, now be prepared to face the consequences.” Bucky fishmouthed at him. “I didn’t start it.” He said weakly. “To the principal’s office. Right now!” Pierce snapped. “And you get your ass to class Mr Barton.” His unpleasant voice was menacing enough to stop Clint from protesting and Bucky gave in to his fate and followed the teacher in the direction they had come from.

 

To his surprise however, the second chair outside of the principal’s office were already occupied. Sitting there looking like someone had insulted his mother was Steve, whose guts Pierce hated for a reason unknown to Bucky who groaned, visibly annoyed, when Pierce motioned for him to take a seat before leaving.

Steve opened his mouth to throw accusations at Bucky but the latter was faster. “You really cannot fucking try to blame me for this Rogers.” He said as coldly as he could. Steve made a noise that vaguely sounded like an “hmpf”, crossed his arms over his ridiculous pecs and stared straight ahead. 

15 minutes full of stern glares and ranting from the principal Fury, Steve and Bucky found themselves being shooed out into the hall. “This means campus community work for a week. For both of you. I can’t call your parents because this isn’t a high school but I can make you regret breaking the rules young men.” Fury ordered before shutting the door in their faces.

“I hate you.” They said alsmost simultaneously.


	4. Campus Community Service

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw I have no idea of the layout of NYU or the subjects taught there so I’m making it up as I go pls inform me of any logic errors  
> Also this is a rather short (and terrible) chapter. I'm sorry school literally just started and I'm already drowning in work...

The next afternoon, Bucky slumped down on his bed and tried to ignore Steve pacing the room. The day had been full of stupid comments either about his messy hair or his punishment. For Steve it had gone much the same, except his friends also kept bullying him because of the bruise on his face.

“It’s soo unfair that Brock doesn’t have to do stupid campus community service.” Steve whined, tugging at his hair. They had half an hour left before they were to show up in Fury’s office to be assigned their tasks for the day. “Well seeing as it’s your fucking fault, suck it up and stop bitching about it.” Bucky huffed, sitting up from where he’d been sorting through a pile of photos he’d taken earlier. “It’s not MY fault!” Steve started, before seemingly realising that it indeed was, as he was the reason for Bucky’s beanie landing of the floor close to Brock. He let out a frustrated groan and sat down at his desk.

Bucky thought he heard him mumble something about being stuck with “General fucking Grievous” for a week and could barely stifle a laugh. “What’s so funny, you buffoon?” Steve grumbled from across the room. Bucky didn’t answer but burst out laughing at Steve’s deeply offended tone of voice. Steve violently hurled a pillow from his bed in Bucky’s general direction, which missed him by about two feet and only made him laugh harder. “Is that what you call a pillow fight?” He mocked

Done with his roommate’s mockery, Steve grabbed another pillow and strode over to Bucky, hitting him over the head with it. Bucky was still laughing way too hard to defend himself and simply threw up his hands, however, no mercy was shown.

Finally Bucky had calmed down enough to try and resist the attacks by grabbing his own pillow and desperately trying to fight back. He launched himself off of the bed and tossed his pillow at Steve, who ducked out of its way. Realising that he’d just given up his only weapon Bucky started to back away, a wicked grin on his face. Steve advanced to smack him in the face again but Bucky caught his wrists and managed to hold him at distance.

They struggled against each other until Steve used one of his feet to make Bucky stumble to the ground. What he hadn’t thought about was that Bucky was still holding onto him and when he fell over, he pulled Steve off of his feet as well. They landed in a heap on the floor and Bucky lost no time straddling Steve to keep him down and hitting him repeatedly with the pillow he’d stolen from him.  
Steve was now laughing too, as he tried to protect his already battered face. He grabbed Bucky’s hips and turned them around, pinning Bucky to the ground beneath him. Bucky promptly thrust the pillow into his face again but Steve grabbed it and threw it to the side. 

 

There was a moment of awkward silence when they simply stared into one another’s eyes, bright blue meeting steel. Both of their faces were flushed, they were panting but at the same time laughing and smiling like idiots. Only now, Steve realised how close they were to each other. He hurriedly scrambled to his feet. “We’d better be on our way then. Fury hates to be kept waiting.” He stuttered, holding out a hesitant hand for Bucky to grab. When he did so, Steve pulled him up with more force then necessary, resulting in Bucky awkwardly chest bumping him before taking a step back.  
They turned away from each other, both trying to will the blush away while pretending to get ready to leave.

 

When they reached Fury’s office, the principal was already impatiently waiting for them. “Finally.” He grumbled to himself before motioning for Steve and Bucky to follow him. He led them to an old storage room in the attic of the architecture department. “There you go boys. Have fun tidying up. I’ll be back in two hours.” He announced, closing the door behind him with a quiet “thud”. 

Bucky let his gaze slide across cardboard boxes and shelves full of books and dusty 3d models of houses and bridges and sighed. “Okay.” He said. “Let’s get to work.” Steve nodded his approval and in silence they started rearranging the boxes in neat piles and brushing the dust off of every single 3d model.

Halfway through, Steve came to the conclusion that he didn’t hate Bucky as much as he had initially thought. It was actually kind of nice to work with him. Also he looked super hot in the dim light that fell through the dusty windows illuminating his messy, curly bedhead and the light scruff along his sharp jawline. Steve caught himself staring before Bucky did and tried to focus on the pile of still unsorted books in front of him. He hated himself for the light, but burning desire in his chest. Blaming it on Bucky seemed like an option for now. He wasn’t developing a crush or anything. He was probably just confused because of all the dust he’d inhaled.

Bucky was currently filing through a lidless and therefore very dusty box with architecture magazines, trying to figure out if they were worth the pain of dusting them off individually. He seemed incredibly concentrated on the task at hand, with his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, when he was really just consciously trying to avoid acknowledging Steve’s presence in the room with him. He knew Steve hated him and he had felt his intense stare in the back of his neck for a while which made him uncomfortable.

“Hey Bucky?” Steve asked eventually, voice barely above a whisper. “Hmm?” Bucky was still intently staring at the magazines. “I um … I’m sorry about stealing your hat. And… um shoving you around the other day?” He choked out, looking everywhere but in Bucky’s direction, feeling a faint blush creep up his neck. At that, Bucky’s head perked up. Had Steve actually just said that? He turned to gape at him. “Are you serious?” He inquired. Steve nodded awkwardly. Bucky huffed a laugh and turned back to his task. “S’alright.”

Realising what he had just said, Steve quickly added “You’re still a dumbass though.” Before hastily looking away as well. He heard Bucky chuckle behind him and then a well-aimed magazine hit him in the back of the head.

 

Two hours went by like nothing and suddenly Principal Fury busted in on Steve and Bucky quietly working away in the fading day-light. (When the sun had started to set it had become that the lightbulbs in the room were without exception all broken.) “Okay, time’s up for today. Come back to my office tomorrow afternoon. Now get out.” He said in his usual tone of voice that radiated constant annoyance. As neither Bucky nor Steve had enjoyed being stuck in the attic for two hours very much, they both chose to flee as quickly as possible. 

They raced down a few hallways to get to the exit of the building but before they reached their floor, Bucky took another turn, leaving Steve to return by himself in favour of going to see Clint.

When Bucky reached his friend’s room, Clint had just opened the door to let Natasha back into the hallway. When he saw Bucky, he waved. Bucky noticed how bright pink Clint’s cheeks and the tips of his ears were and gave him a confused look behind Nat’s back. Clint just shook his head and when Nat turned around and launched herself at Bucky for a hug, he could see that she seemed just as flushed and nervous as Clint though she was trying very hard not to let it show.

Nat skipped down the hall in a cheery fashion in which she’d usually never let herself be caught dead in. 

Clint dragged Bucky inside and threw the door closed and then hurriedly tried to initiate conversation before Bucky could ask any questions. “So! How was cleaning duty with Mr. Moron?” He asked innocently. “Surprisingly not as bad as I’d expected.” Bucky offered, slumping down on Clint’s messy bed which looked like someone had been partially successful at blowing it up. Clint threw him a box of biscuits and sat down next to him.

“What was Nat doing here anyway?” Bucky asked curiously. “Uh…nothing really. We were discussing her business presentation for next week actually.” Clint dodged. His friend just nodded suspiciously and proceeded to stuff his face with another handful of crushed biscuits (the box hadn’t taken lightly to being carried around at the bottom of Clint’s massive backpack all day).

Bucky was distracted when Clint shoved a playstation controller at him in order to kick his ass in Mario Kart. Two hours filled with loud music, hysterical laughter and a lot of screaming obscene insults at one another, Bucky decided to call it a night. The next day was a Saturday and he wanted to get a full night’s sleep so he could go swimming early in the morning.

When he slipped back into his room, Steve was rummaging through his closet in nothing but boxer shorts. Bucky knew he was staring at the way Steve’s muscles moved across his back, not to mention his fantastic legs and hastily turned to the bathroom before Steve had time to turn and notice the vibrant blush on his face. He locked the door behind him and leaned against it for a second.

“He’s a dickhead.” He tried to remind himself. “He’s a dickhead and he hates me.”

All Bucky did was lurk around the bathroom for a while, repeatedly checking his reflection in the mirror to make sure the blush was gone. When he felt safe that Steve should be done getting dressed now, he cautiously opened the bathroom door and was greeted by the sight of Steve’s ridiculous abs. Steve currently had his arms over his head and was putting on one of those sinfully tight shirts he wore sometimes. His head was stuck somewhere near the neckhole so he couldn’t see Bucky’s face which the latter used to his advantage by quickly turning around and grabbing his pyjamas to escape back to the bathroom. When he came back, with freshly brushed teeth, Steve was shrugging on a jacket. “I’m going out.” He said curtly and then left.

Bucky was happy to have the room to himself but he felt jealousy tug on his insides. He went to bed with that weird feeling of not quite knowing what to do with himself, in his guts.


	5. Prank

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to start by apologising for sort of abandoning this story for so long. I guess you could call it writer's block? I just couldn't get my shit sorted. I'm back now though. This is really short because I'm literally going to Sweden in like 4 hours but I gave my best. I will be gone for two weeks but after that I have another weeks left before school starts again so I promise to continue writing to update again as soon as I can.

At 6 am the next morning Bucky’s alarm clock went off only to be silenced by its owner’s fist coming down on it. As Bucky heaved himself out of the comfortable warmth of his duvet, he suddenly grew aware of Steve, who – still fully dressed – had passed out on his own bed, snoring loudly with his mouth slightly open.   
Bucky proceeded to ignore his roommate in favour of getting dressed and collecting his things to throw them into a backpack. Before he left for his morning swim however, he decided this would be a great opportunity to play a prank on Steve. He found a Sharpie from his desk and set to work drawing a huge moustache on Steve’s upper lip. He snickered to himself, thinking that Steve would probably be too hung over to remember where the abomination had come from.

He silently slipped out of their shared room and made his through the front gate towards the nearest underground station. When he boarded the train that would take him to the indoor pool, he’d shoved headphones over his ears and was blasting Green Day at full volume (which was probably bad for his ears but whatever).  
After changing into his swim trunks he grabbed his towel and made his way towards to water. Having decided to work on breathing techniques, he hopped into the huge, ominously empty pool (6:30 on a Saturday morning, why would anyone get up that early to swim) and started his routine.

An hour and a half later, he hit the showers and while hidden in the steam from the basically boiling hot water pouring down his body he let his thoughts wander.  
Once he got back to his and Steve’s shared room, he put up his trunks in the bathroom to dry off and started up his laptop to get some work for his art class done. Steve was still snoring so Bucky tossed a shoe at him. Steve merely grumbled and turned over in his sleep but he did stop snoring for the time being.

Satisfied, Bucky went back to editing photos. The hours went by and at about 2 pm, when Bucky was having a snack consisting of the sandwiches he’ bought on his way back, Steve finally stirred. He groaned and turned around to sleepily peer at Bucky through half open eyes. “What’s the time?” He slurred, his voice sounding distinctively more gravely than usual. “’Bout 2.” Bucky replied absently. “Long night?” He inquired, not really paying Steve much attention at all. Steve nodded, then sat up and groaned again. He rubbed a hand down his face. Bucky pretended to not see the obvious love bite that decorated the side of Steve’s neck. The latter heaved himself up and dragged his hung over ass over to the bathroom. 

Bucky got ready to run when he heard Steve yell “What the fff-!”. He could barely hold back the laughter as Steve came out of the bathroom, practically fuming. “Are you seeing this?” He demanded, pointing at his new moustache. “Yeah you must have gotten pretty hammered.” Bucky choked out, still trying not to laugh. “No no no, this definitely wasn’t there last night!” Steve spat. Bucky tried his best to look innocent and shrugged, turning back to his laptop.

A split-second later, he found himself face to face with the moustache, because Steve had roughly pushed the laptop aside, grabbed him by the collar of his hoodie and leaned in dangerously close. “You did this didn’t you?” He growled, menacingly. Bucky swallowed. “Um…” He began but Steve cut him off. “You did this to get back at me!” He accused, still up in Bucky’s face. “Um…” Bucky started again. “I…” Again, Steve didn’t let him finish. “We’ll see how you like *this*.” He said, pulling Bucky to his feet and dragging him over to the desk. Bucky protested but Steve was a lot buffer than him so he didn’t really stand a chance.

He didn’t know what Steve was going to do until he was pushed against the wall and a Sharpie came into view. Steve grabbed his jaw to hold his head still but before he could do anything, Bucky had thrown his arms up to block the attack. He squirmed out of Steve’s grip and beelined for the door but Steve caught him around the waist and wrestled him to the floor. He was kneeling over Bucky, who was on his back, still holding his arms up defensively. They stared at each other for a few seconds and then burst out laughing almost hysterically. Bucky let his guard down for a second though, which Steve used to his advantage.

He grabbed Bucky’s wrists with one of his hands and held them out of the way while bringing the Sharpie up to the other’s face again. He snickered sinisterly as he attempted to draw/write something on Bucky’s face. His victim was not holding still though but was instead vigorously struggling. Once he was satisfied with his work, Steve tossed the pen aside and sat back on his heels. Promptly, Bucky bucked (lol) him off and ran to the bathroom to look in the mirror. 

What he saw made him snort. In Steve’s messy handwriting (which looked even worse, now that it was on his face and he hadn’t been holding still) the word ‘IDIOT’ was scrawled across his left cheek in big, capital letters. When he got back to the main room, Steve was still on the floor laughing, his hang-over forgotten for now. “Wow, we’re absolute morons.” Bucky snickered. “Did we think of the fact that that is a permanent marker?” He asked. Steve stopped laughing at once. “What?!” He actually sounded shocked. “Calm down you punk, it’ll probably come off with soap and warm water.” Bucky mocked. “Or is that too much for your giant ego to handle?” He continued. “I will show you exactly what…!” Steve began, as he jumped to his feet and lunged at Bucky. 

They tussled for a bit before Steve easily gained the upper hand and pinned Bucky against his wardrobe. They were both panting heavily from the scuffle. “You givin’ up yet?” He challenged. “Not at all!” Bucky wheezed and jabbed his opponent in the ribs. Steve made an indignant sound could almost be described as a squeal and Bucky burst out laughing again. Steve let go of him to prod at his ribs and Bucky laughed even more. “You do know, we’ve ot to work for Fury again today right?” Steve inquired after a moment of watching Bucky laugh his lungs up. Instantly, the laughter died down, “Oh shit:” Bucky said, hilariously serious. 

Now it was Steve’s turn to laugh. “Didn’t you say something about soap and ware water?” He chuckled, walking over to the bathroom. Bucky followed him and the two began frantically scrubbing at their faces with washcloths. 

30 minutes later, they were already almost late for their appointment with Fury but there was still a very visibly residue of permanent marker left on their faces. “I’m giving up!” Bucky huffed and threw his wet washcloth at Steve. “I’d rather Fury judges us for the marker on our faces than for being late.” With that, he turned to lead the way to Fury’s office. Reluctantly Steve followed him, still wiping at his face.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry honestly! I know I said I was gonna start posting more regularly but I basically consist of coffee and stress at this point...  
> anyway, I hope the chapter isn't too terrible, albeit quite short

At 6 am the next morning Bucky’s alarm clock went off only to be silenced by its owner’s fist coming down on it. As Bucky heaved himself out of the comfortable warmth of his duvet, he suddenly grew aware of Steve, who – still fully dressed – had passed out on his own bed, snoring loudly with his mouth slightly open. 

Bucky proceeded to ignore his roommate in favour of getting dressed and collecting his things to throw them into a backpack. Before he left for his morning swim however, he decided this would be a great opportunity to play a prank on Steve. He found a Sharpie from his desk and set to work drawing a huge moustache on Steve’s upper lip. He snickered to himself, thinking that Steve would probably be too hung over to remember where the abomination had come from.

He silently slipped out of their shared room and made his through the front gate towards the nearest underground station. When he boarded the train that would take him to the indoor pool, he’d shoved headphones over his ears and was blasting Green Day at full volume (which was probably bad for his hearing but whatever).

After changing into his swim trunks he grabbed his towel and made his way towards to water. Having decided to work on breathing techniques, he hopped into the huge, ominously empty pool (6:30 on a Saturday morning, why would anyone get up that early to swim) and started his routine.

An hour and a half later, he hit the showers and while hidden in the steam from the basically boiling hot water pouring down his body he let his thoughts wander.

Once he got back to his and Steve’s shared room, he put up his trunks in the bathroom to dry off and started up his laptop to get some work for his art class done. Steve was still snoring so Bucky tossed a shoe at him. Steve merely grumbled and turned over in his sleep but he did stop snoring for the time being.

Satisfied, Bucky went back to editing photos. The hours went by and at about 2 pm, when Bucky was having a snack consisting of the sandwiches he’d bought on his way back, Steve finally stirred. He groaned and turned around to sleepily peer at Bucky through half open eyes. “What’s the time?” He slurred, his voice sounding distinctively more gravely than usual. “’Bout 2.” Bucky replied absently. “Long night?” He inquired, not really paying Steve much attention at all. Steve nodded, then sat up and groaned again. He rubbed a hand down his face. Bucky pretended to not see the obvious love bite that decorated the side of Steve’s neck. The latter heaved himself up and dragged his hung over ass over to the bathroom. 

Bucky got ready to run when he heard Steve yell “What the fff-!”. He could barely hold back the laughter as Steve came out of the bathroom, practically fuming. “Are you seeing this?” He demanded, pointing at his new moustache. “Yeah you must have gotten pretty hammered.” Bucky choked out, still trying not to laugh. “No no no, this definitely wasn’t there last night!” Steve spat. Bucky tried his best to look innocent and shrugged, turning back to his laptop.

A split-second later, he found himself face to face with the moustache, because Steve had roughly pushed the laptop aside, grabbed him by the collar of his hoodie and leaned in dangerously close. “You did this, didn’t you?” He growled, menacingly. Bucky swallowed. “Um…” He began but Steve cut him off. “You did this to get back at me!” He accused, still up in Bucky’s face. “Um…” Bucky started again. “I…” Again, Steve didn’t let him finish. “We’ll see how you like *this*.” He said, pulling Bucky to his feet and dragging him over to the desk. Bucky protested but Steve was a lot buffer than him so he didn’t really stand a chance.

He didn’t know what Steve was going to do until he was pushed against the wall and a Sharpie came into view. Steve grabbed his jaw to hold his head still but before he could do anything, Bucky had thrown his arms up to block the attack. He squirmed out of Steve’s grip and beelined for the door but Steve caught him around the waist and wrestled him to the floor. He was kneeling over Bucky, who was on his back, still holding his arms up defensively. They stared at each other for a few seconds and then burst out laughing almost hysterically. Bucky let his guard down for a second though, which Steve used to his advantage.

He grabbed Bucky’s wrists with one of his hands and held them out of the way while bringing the Sharpie up to the other’s face again. He snickered sinisterly as he attempted to draw/write something on Bucky’s face. His victim was not holding still though but was instead vigorously struggling. Once he was satisfied with his work, Steve tossed the pen aside and sat back on his heels. Promptly, Bucky bucked (lol) him off and ran to the bathroom to look in the mirror. 

What he saw made him snort. In Steve’s messy handwriting (which looked even worse, now that it was on his face and he hadn’t been holding still) the word ‘IDIOT’ was scrawled across his left cheek in big, capital letters. When he got back to the main room, Steve was still on the floor laughing, his hang-over forgotten for now. “Wow, we’re absolute morons.” Bucky snickered. “Did we think of the fact that that is a permanent marker?” He asked. Steve stopped laughing at once. “What?!” He actually sounded shocked. “Calm down you punk, it’ll probably come off with soap and warm water.” Bucky mocked. “Or is that too much for your giant ego to handle?” He continued. “I will show you exactly what…!” Steve began, as he jumped to his feet and lunged at Bucky. 

They tussled for a bit before Steve easily gained the upper hand and pinned Bucky against his wardrobe. They were both panting heavily from the scuffle. “You givin’ up yet?” He challenged. “Not at all!” Bucky wheezed and jabbed his opponent in the ribs. Steve made an indignant sound could almost be described as a squeal and Bucky burst out laughing again. Steve let go of him to prod at his ribs and Bucky laughed even more. “You do know, we’ve got to work for Fury again today right?” Steve inquired after a moment of watching Bucky laugh his lungs up. Instantly, the laughter died down, “Oh shit:” Bucky said, hilariously serious. 

Now it was Steve’s turn to laugh. “Didn’t you say something about soap and ware water?” He chuckled, walking over to the bathroom. Bucky followed him and the two began frantically scrubbing at their faces with washcloths. 

30 minutes later, they were already almost late for their appointment with Fury but there was still a very visibly residue of permanent marker left on their faces. “I’m giving up!” Bucky huffed and threw his wet washcloth at Steve. “I’d rather Fury judges us for the marker on our faces than for being late.” With that, he turned to lead the way to Fury’s office. Reluctantly Steve followed him, still wiping at his face.

Steve could practically feel Fury’s judging thoughts the second they walked through the door.

He didn’t say anything in favour of burying his face in his hands and sighing audibly.

He then sent Bucky and Steve off to the deserted library to sort all the books people had returned back onto their respective shelves from the giant plastic bins they were being stored in for the time being.  
“Ugh!” Steve exclaimed. “This is pointless.” Bucky tossed a book over to him without acknowledging he’d uttered a word. “Goes that on the shelf behind you.” He said as an explanation when Steve gave a weak “dude!” in protest of having literature thrown at him.

An hour later, Steve’s annoying bravado had returned and the two of them were racing each other to see who could sort away the most books in five minutes. Bucky rounded a corner and noisily crashed into a table while Steve’s footfall was so loud it sounded like there were at least eight people sprinting through the narrow corridors between the shelves. In that moment, both of them were infinitely grateful that the old hag of a librarian didn’t usually work on weekends.

In the end, Steve won. However, if you were to ask Bucky, he’d tell you that that was simply because his own bin had been full of books on applied sciences which were located on the opposite side of the library, whereas Steve had had all the books on linguistics, which were right by the entrance.

Later, when Bucky strayed around the building in pursuit of Clint or Natasha, he narrowly avoided running into Brock Rumlow and two of his ill-tempered looking friends(/henchmen) by ducking into a random supply closet.

He was, however, not alone in that closet. Upon turning around to lean against the closed door, Bucky laid eyes on Clint and Natasha, whom he’d spent half an hour looking for, almost aggressively making out.

Not caring whether Rumlow heard him or not, he yelled “WHAT THE FUCK GUYS!??” at the top of his lungs. At that, the two lovebirds jumped apart and stared at him wide-eyed.  
“Ummmm, hey cupcake?” Clint stated awkwardly. Natasha was giving Bucky her finest death-glare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback makes the author happy!


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